Besedila: Jacks Of All Trades. The Black Sheep Tale.

This is about a metaphor... paraphrased... some allegories
how I came to know the grace...
a symbolic picture of shearing of my wools...
and how the game got new rules...

I`m abandoned, hurt and sore
My skin is ripped by the cutting thorns
I`m everybody`s cheap laughing stock
A spitting cup, just listen how they mock
My flock scattered, fell on the rocks
Shocked, shattered, fold`s door locked
Is there justice for a poor
For a lowly, for a whore
Who`s there to...
search for the lost
Bind up the injured
Who`s there to...
Strengthen the weak
Destroy the strong and sleek

I try to understand what freedom is
Surely it`s something far from this
I`m longing for a warm embrace
Erase the ache in a healing place

Great is the pain that I got to face
Yet the pure rain`ll wipe off the disdain
I hate the rams, way they did treat me
As a lamb, they bruised me too deeply

Maybe life`s here to put me down neatly

But the strife and fear crush me completely
They muddied the clean water, trampled the green lawn
Butting me with their horns

I called out, for shelter I called
Now they`re warned that You`re the Lord
Yes He broke the bars of my yoke
Made a joke out of the goats

He`s there to
Search for the lost
Bind up the injured
He`s there to
Strengthen the weak
Destroy the strong and sleek

I`ll be taken to rich pastures
On the mountains of plenty
In clear water valleys
By the grazing lands of mercy

For the Lord is my Shepherd
I shall not faint
Jesus came to dye white all the black sheep